She's BACK?
by TraceAce
Summary: Spoilers--major ones--from 'The Afterlife'. This is my first Buffy story, so be kind. ^__^ Spike tries to deal with the abrupt appearance of his lost love..


I still don't know what to think.

She made it so much harder.

I didn't actually know what I thought when I saw her standing on the steps. Well, actually, it was around the lines of 'Holy Shit'. It didn't take me long to realize that this—this BUFFY was not a bot. She was human, she was alive—she was breathing, and the sparkle in her eyes that I had always loved was there. It made my so-called non-existent heart leap to my throat.

It was like every dream I had since it happened, the dreams that tortured me, that made me wake in pure cold sweat. They were so poetically horrible, not because of the content, but how it haunted me. Every night she was alive, and she was all right. She was safe, and with an added boost of reality, she even disliked me. Or at least pretended too. I'm still not too sure about how she feels about me.

I was almost afraid this was a dream too. The gaze she was giving me was striking, but it wasn't filled with hate. It was filled with confusion, fear. I've never seen that in her eyes, and it made her look vulnerable. If I didn't remember the fact that every time I touched her she flinched with the exceptions of those times that her emotions had gotten so bad that she would look for comfort from a rock if she had too.

She was alive, though, and I could of smiled if I didn't know that something was terribly wrong about this. I was so happy she was alive, so so happy—but I knew that this was bigger then any of these idiots could ever imagine. Still, I let myself go into the bliss of the moment. She walked slowly down, her eyes looking into mine. I was selfishly happy that the fear wasn't directed toward me.

Her hands. I knew those marks. My mouth fell to a small frown. Had she gotten out like I had gotten out so long ago? I could understand why she was traumatized. I didn't blame her, because I remember that fear. That overwhelming fear of being buried—only she wasn't used to things like that. She wasn't used to being dead. I've had countless years to get over it.

But never in my years had I ever met a girl like her. No one had that spunk that I love in her. And now I was enjoying the fact that she was taking my help. Sitting down, holding her hands like I always wanted to. They weren't tense like all the past times I touched her, but willing, relaxed. Again I peer into her eyes, and still I see the overwhelming feelings she was going through.

I let my voice be soft and caring. I knew she had to have gone through a lot more then any of the mortals around her could understand. She barely winced at her wounded hands, even though they were still bleeding. I was at a loss for words, but I knew that I was boarding on angry and overjoyed at the same time. I continued to remind myself—this isn't a good thing, this is a disaster, this is something that should have been left to dreams.

I left when her little gang showed up. I had too, because I suddenly felt myself crying. Look at me, a vampire crying over some bloody Slayer. If only I knew it would get that bad a few hundred years ago. I mean, I was one of the people who thought Angel was weak for loving a mortal, and now I'm just as bad.

My anger was directed to Xander and his little ex-demon lover. I know they would all be sorry for bringing her back, and that there were consequences for the actions done. They didn't believe me. I didn't expect them too, but felt it should at least be out in the open. I left them quickly, not wanting them to see my weakness pour out in front of the idiots. I went to where I always went too.

My crypt. I wasn't used to being there at night, but it wasn't a very normal night. Now that the initial shock had worn thin, the realization of what had happened, what I had seen, the fact person I actually really loved since that moment I turned to what I was today was back from the dead. Not even Dru came close to her now. It took me a while to calm down.

And all at once the pensive feeling I had sprang up again, when I heard noises. Out of caution, as always, I grabbed my blade and slowly stalked toward the area where the noise was. I stopped mid-step when I saw her. An unscheduled visit? That didn't happen often. I all ready knew the tension I was feeling between us was thick enough to use my blade on, so I tried to put in a little humor.

She remained stone-faced. So much for that. She spoke briefly, and I hung on her words. And then I felt myself break down, my shield I kept up since her death crumbling to pieces. And I just went and admitted it, I admitted how every night I dreamed of her, how I felt like what happened was my fault—and she didn't freak out. I thought she was going to freak out, to tell me not to say things like that—but she didn't. It was probably blind hope, but I could actually say she looked a little flattered.

And she left as she came, quietly. I watched her leave, still knowing something was wrong and that she wasn't suppose to be alive, but now at least letting myself revel in the fact that of all people she had come to me. Call me selfish, but things like that didn't happen every day. Just like old times, she had easily become the only thing on my mind once again. This time, it was both because I loved her and the fact that I pitied her position.

I didn't see her until later on, when I decided to risk myself and go out into the daylight. All right, so maybe I was following her. Just a little. I couldn't help it. I guess old habits never die. I noticed her and her little pals having one of those sappy happy touching moments that made my stomach turn. I went back to waiting for her, leaning in the shade, trying not to notice the sun was blaring down on me and could potentially burn me to death.

And then she came out, and her face didn't mask the confusion that spread across her features. All right, so I wasn't a common sight in the sun—big bloody deal. She walked over and leaned beside me. I had to hide my shock at the open display of comfortableness around me. I knew she wanted to talk, so I let her. I did what any respectable vampire would do—listen.

What she said put me in a loop, that's for sure. She was in heaven? They brought her back from heaven? I knew this would be a problem—I just knew it. She had been pulled out because everyone was just thinking about themselves. I wasn't exactly sure why she was telling me this, though. I'm not exactly the one most came to to tell their little secrets. And then it hit me, very swiftly.

I was one of the only ones that had nothing to do with bringing her back. Dawn was the other, but she couldn't very well tell her 'little sister' that she didn't want to be back. Either way, I think she knew how against I was bringing her back. I still am, and this backs up my thoughts. "No one can know." She whispered to me.

She was staring at me, a serious look in her eyes. It was exactly that point that I knew she was back, that she was alive. It didn't dawn on me until then, because now she was back to normal—caring about people more then caring about herself. As I watched her briskly walk away, I let the things she told me sink in.

And decided—if she didn't want anyone else to know, I wouldn't tell anyone. It was the least I could do, right?


End file.
